The Way We Live Now
by storm173
Summary: World War I changes everything, especially things at Downton Abbey.
1. Chapter 1

World War I

_We are at war with Germany._ Elsie knows it. Downton might be far away from the battle fields, but the war has come to them as well. She sees it. She would have to be blind not too. The newspapers are full with the war. The village is full with it. Soldiers wounded or on their way to be marked by battle walk the streets. Thomas is gone. She can't say she misses him, but when she walks by the hospital and sees what happens to those who fight, she finds herself hoping that he is not in the middle of that hell France turned into. William thinks about going. She doesn't want him to go. War would take one step towards her if the lad put on a uniform. Now and then, she sees Lord Grantham. He is wearing uniform these days. He is not an acting soldier, but still a soldier. And he sleeps, walks, eats, lives under the same roof as her.

The war, she hears it. She would have to be numb not too. On Sundays, Mr. Travis always speaks of it. He tells them to have faith, to pray for the brave men at the front and to carry on as best as they can. The family talks about it. The staff talks about it. The whole village turned into a web of war stories. War can be smelled in the air, tasted in the food. It is always present. And soon it will conquer Downton. They talk about turning the house into a hospital for officers. She will be nowhere safe then. Only in her room, when the sun has long disappeared on the horizon. Maybe in her sleep she can escape it. She won't dream of uniforms, of cripples, the sound of firing guns and explosions, the smell of blood, earth and sweat. She won't dream of it. She can see and hear the war, even smell and taste it sometimes, but she doesn't feel it. There is no husband to worry about, no brother, father, son or nephew. Her family is safe, so she doesn't feel it and her dreams are war free.

She is watching the clock. The hands move both, slow and fast. _Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. _Elsie closes her eyes. She can hear the train's brakes screeching and creaking. It stops with a muffled jerk. Steam hisses from the engine and rises in the air. The doors open and he steps out. He heaves his suitcase out of the third class compartment. She can see him clearly even though she is not there. His tall and broad figure, wrapped up in a perfectly fitting suit. Charles Carson steps calmly down the platform. He will be back any moment now. Back from a short trip to York. He had to fetch some things there. The season has been cancelled. She wishes the war to be over soon, but she is also grateful that there are no weeks without him for a change. She is stronger with him by her side, despite what had happened. Despite what had changed them. _Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock._ He is with her. And as long as he is there, she doesn't feel the war. He won't be sent to the front where she couldn't protect him. His work is the only enemy anywhere near them. She can deal with that. No need to worry. No way for everything to come to close to her. But that wasn't the truth, was it? The truth. The truth was that it was only a matter of time until the war's grip on her would tighten and _make_ her _feel_. And then her whole world would start to crumble until it would lie in ruins at her feet. Until the truth he should have been told long ago would splutter out of her. There was nothing more she feared than the war forcing her to face the truth. A truth Elsie had buried deep inside her fifteen years ago.

The backdoor is opened and there he stands. He sighs, removes his hat and greets her with a warm smile. They go to his pantry. There is a lot to talk about. There always is, there always will be. The war has its effect on both of them. He has the afternoon post with him, met the postman on his way from the village. There is a letter for her from her sister. She suspects what it will say and makes her excuses as soon as possible. Her bottom lip suffers while she stands up and leaves.

He doesn't see it. He has lost the ability to read her long ago. Fifteen years ago to be exact if he remembered it correctly. Charles has stopped wondering what had happened then. It was done and in the past and there was way too much work to do to think about old stories again. The present was complicated enough. There was a war on after all. Things were as they were and he wouldn't complain about it. They had both found their way and for his part he thought it was a good one.

She sits in her sitting room. The door is closed. She doesn't want to be disturbed. With shaky hands she opens the letter. It is more of a short note than a letter. It was written in a hurry and with much concern: _Elsie, he wants to enlist. I can't stop him. Do something!_

The war was ever since it started a threat and now it is rolling over her like a thundering storm. Suddenly she feels it. And that was when everything started.

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**_I borrowed the title of this fanfiction from Anthony Trollope's novel. I have never read it and only seen parts of the series. This fic won't be anything like it. I just think it's a really good title. Let me know what you think of this "introduction chapter". Thank you for reading! :)_  
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	2. Chapter 2

_**Thank you all for your support! Hope you enjoy this chapter. :)**_

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**July 1917**

The kitchen was crowded and noisy in the afternoon. At least that the war hadn't changed. Elsie was not sure while most of them were in the kitchen. They only made it more complicated for Mrs. Patmore to prepare dinner. But the servant's hall was a deserted place with Thomas, William and Mr. Bates gone. Everyone was looking for some company these days even if they were in the way. She was watching the quick hands of the cook. Mrs. Patmore's cooking skills were admirable. Daisy and she were a well-rehearsed team. The housekeeper's attention was drawn to the hallway all of a sudden. She heard his footsteps coming towards the kitchen. And indeed he appeared at the door moments later, carrying the afternoon post. Charles handed one letter to Daisy who immediately stopped working and opened the envelope to read it. Mrs. Patmore looked up from the bowl in which she was making some sort of salad. "Where are they going to eat?", she asked, addressing Charles. Everyone knew who was meant with 'they'.

"I understand from Mrs. Crawley that they'll share the dining room with the officers who are almost well", Charles answered. He never looked pleased when the subject was mentioned.

"So am I running a canteen now?", Mrs. Patmore replied, most certainly disliking the thought. Daisy gave a slight laugh, which interrupted the conversation. She looked up from the letter. "William says he's got some time off between the end of his training and going overseas", she explained.

"He'll be with his father, surely?". Elsie said, thinking about poor old Mr. Mason who had tried so hard to stop his son from enlisting.

"He's going home first, but he wants to come here for his last night", Daisy answered.

Elsie turned to Charles. "You wouldn't mind that, would you, Mr. Carson?", she asked. She didn't want to waste the chance to say goodbye to William. God knew when and if at all the lad would return.

"Certainly not. I'd be glad to wish him good luck on his way", Charles replied. Relieved to hear him having the same opinion, she turned back to watch Mrs. Patmore who was now dealing with the chicken. Charles turned to leave and found himself face to face with Tom. Even the chauffeur was spending a lot of time in the house these days. "Ah, for you, Mr. Branson", Charles said and handed him a letter. Elsie gave the pack of letters a side glance, but before she had the chance to ask if there was one for her, Charles had left the kitchen. Elsie followed him and caught him at the door to his pantry. "Mr. Carson, there isn't a letter for me, is there?"

Charles went through the pack, shaking his head. "I'm afraid not. Are you awaiting one?"

"Not really, only my sister should have written me by now. I suppose she is too busy at the moment to write", Elsie answered, trying to hide that the silence from her sister upset her greatly.

"The war keeps us all busy", Charles agreed. He only realized that Elsie seemed a bit too effected by the absence of a word from her sister, when she had already turned to leave and had made a good few feet away from him. He watched her for a few moments while his brain was working intensely. He wasn't sure if he came to the right conclusion, but nonetheless the possibility of it being right worried him. "Mrs. Hughes", he called after her and closed the gap between them in three long strides. "Is everything all right? I mean, you seem to be very concerned now and then."

She raised her eyebrows at him. "There is a war going on. It has caused extra work and even the knock out of the butler. Young men including one or two I know leave for the front and you are surprised that I am concerned? Really, Mr. Carson." She shook his head at him, but felt a lump forming in her throat when he sighed and rolled his eyes at her. "You know what I really mean. Don't you think I haven't seen that you sometimes don't even touch your food? Or that you have become very sensitive on the subject of your sister? I'm not blind, Mrs. Hughes, so please tell me what is wrong." He spoke quietly to avoid being overheard. She turned rather pale while he was speaking and parts of him felt the need to prepare to catch her if she fell over.

Elsie studied his features, tried to find out what kind of concern bothered him. Was he the butler worrying about the housekeeper? Or Charles worrying about Elsie? She wasn't sure. The latter seemed unlikely. She could hardly remember the last time it had been like that. A lie, she thought. Think of a lie. "The war is exhausting. That's all. You needn't worry", she told him.

He looked her deep in the eyes. He wasn't sure what he was looking for, but there had been a time when these eyes had told him everything. Now he could only see the surface of this deep blue ocean. Sometimes huge waves of anger rolled out of them, but that was all he was able to see. Now and in every other moment all he saw was a calm dark blue. "You can tell me if something is wrong. I'm on your side", he tried again as pointless as it was.

"Thank you", she said, sounding not at all convinced by his words. "But I can assure that I'm fine. And now I need to get on." She turned on her heels and left. He retreated to his pantry. Collegial friendliness had been between them for years. It was more than a wall of pure ice compared to how they had been before. And it wasn't often that she could hurt him through it. He had always thought she at least trusted him if nothing else, but it seemed that he had lost her trust too. Again he wondered how on earth they had ended up like this.

Elsie thought about her conversation with Charles for the rest of the day until she fell asleep. It had been one of these rare moments when she wasn't sure what was left between them. And that was the main reason why she didn't dare to open up to him. Whatever was going on inside of that stone of a butler, she didn't know. And therefore she didn't know what she could tell him. All she knew was that despite everything she had never been able to stop her feelings for him. That was the only reason why she was still at Downton. She wasn't able to let go even though it would have been the right thing to do. Elsie had gotten herself torn between two places, two parts of her family. And she had chosen the part of which she knew needed her more even if he never showed it. Looking back, it was right to say that one big mistake had thrown her and his life all over. And no matter what she did, it would be thrown all over again sooner or later.

At dawn, everyone was already wide awake and quite busy. Last arrangements were made and everything was checked thrice before lunch. Charles didn't look forward to the arrival of the patients and the nurses and most certainly he wasn't looking forward to having Thomas back in the house. It wasn't that he disliked the young man. In fact he had at least a bit of respect for him since he had been at the front. But where Thomas was, trouble wasn't far and that was something that got Charles very much on his nerves. When he was upstairs and crossing the entrance hall he almost bumped into one of the maids who carried a vase for some reason elsewhere. He had the decency not to comment on that and simply let out a quiet growl. From the corner of his eye he saw someone coming through the front door carrying a suitcase. Charles turned to the door and wasn't really surprised that it was Thomas who had entered. "Why are you coming in this way?", he asked, making sure that his disapproval was obvious.

"I'm the manager here now, Mr. Carson. Or had you forgotten?", Thomas replied, giving Charles his best arrogant smile. The butler wouldn't let himself being provoked by the ex-footman. "No, I had not forgotten. And will you be moving into your old room? Or should we prepare a guest bedroom?" Charles had no intention to answer to Thomas and if that wasn't clear by now he would continue to drop hints that he wouldn't.

"I'll sleep in my old room, thanks", Thomas responded and looked around. "So, are we ready for the big invasion? 'Cos they'll be here by tea time."

"We'll have to be ready, won't we, Thomas?"

"We will, Mr. Carson. And it's Sergeant Barrow now", Thomas pointed out.

"_Acting_ Sergeant, I believe", Charles said and the tension between the two intensified. The sound of strumming keys made both men turn. Elsie was approaching them. She could see that they had already started to fight. "Is it time already?", she asked.

"Not just yet, Mrs. Hughes. They'll be here at tea time", Thomas answered.

"What a timing", the housekeeper remarked. Another person entered, but Thomas blocked the view. He turned around. "Ah, Nurse Gray." He took of his cap. "Perfect timing I'd say."

Charles sensed that Elsie suddenly seemed to be not at all well. He placed his hand discretely on her lower back with the intention to steady her, but she jumped a few inches away from him at the touch. "Mr. Carson, Mrs. Hughes, this is Nurse Gray. She will be in charge of the nurses including Nurse Crawley so you'll be seeing a lot of her."

Charles blinked a few times. He wasn't sure if his eyes tricked him or the light fell somehow awkwardly on the young woman, but he could have sworn that she looked like a younger version of the housekeeper. He looked from the older to the younger woman, comparing them. They had the same hair, the same features, were about the same seize, only the eyes were different. Elsie's were blue, he didn't need to check that, while this woman had dark eyes. Thomas seemed to be as confused as the butler. "We know each other, don't we, Aunt Elsie?", she said. Charles furrowed his brow. He hadn't known that Elsie's sister had a daughter.

"We do", Elsie said and tried to hide her shock. She hugged the woman shortly. "You should have told me that you were coming here, Jo." Elsie had known that the young woman had become a nurse to do something helpful. In that case she was much alike Lady Sybil.

"It was a last minute decision, I'm afraid. I would have written to you otherwise", she explained.

"I leave you to it", Thomas said, not very pleased that the chances of getting the head nurse on his side had just faded. Charles waited until Thomas was gone. Then he dared to comment on the scene before him. "I didn't know you had a niece, Mrs. Hughes."

"Oh, well, yes, I never had reason to mention it", Elsie tried to explain.

Charles raised one eyebrow at that. "Anyway, nice to meet you, Nurse Gray and welcome at Downton. I'm Mr. Carson, the butler."

"Hello, Mr. Carson." She smiled warmly at him. "I'm afraid there are some things I have to discuss with Aunt… I think it's better if I called you Mrs. Hughes for now", she suggested and received a nod from both heads of staff. "I see you at tea time", Charles said and left the two women. Elsie headed in the opposite direction, leading her niece downstairs to her sitting room. They sat down and silence fell over them for a good two minutes. Elsie finally found the courage to say something. "What was it you wanted to discuss with me?"

"I'm quite sure you already know that. I mean, we have never talked about it, but I think it's quite obvious", she answered.

Elsie stared at her in horror. She knew?

"Don't look so shocked. I'm not a little girl anymore. I have come to my own conclusions and I don't judge you. I'm not angry with you. And you can tell me the whole story when you are ready." She squeezed Elsie's hand reassuringly.

"Thank you", Elsie managed to say. "I'm very grateful for that."

Slowly Jo's smile faded. "I'm afraid Henry sees things a little different. When he got it he decided that no one had the right to tell him what to do, so he enlisted. He is being very foolish. But now it's too late. His training has started."

"In the end that is my fault", Elsie said quietly.

"Don't say that! It's not true. He is stubborn just like we all are. That's it."

"If only the war would be over soon", Elsie mumbled.

"That's what we all hope", Jo agreed. "Anyway, I have to go back upstairs. They'll be here soon and I have to do quite a lot of work as head nurse."

"If there's anything you need, don't be afraid to ask me for help."

"I'll come back to that offer", she promised and left. Elsie remained sitting at her desk and stared holes in the ground. She had lost all sense for time when a soft knock at the door made her return to the present. It was Charles. "Have you had bad news?", he asked concerned.

"Yes", she answered. "My nephew enlisted. Jo told me."

"Nephew?" The question escaped Charles' mouth before he could think.

"Yes, nephew", Elsie responded. "He is Jo's twin brother."

"I very much hope that he will be all right", Charles said. "We have to get upstairs. They are here any minute now."

"Oh my", Elsie said after a short glance at the clock. She got up and hurried to Charles. They remained standing in the doorway for a moment, staring at each other. "And the chaos begins", Elsie then said. Charles let out a short laugh and followed her upstairs.

Nine days later the hospital was already part of their daily routine and they got used to the extra work. It was the morning they had to see off William. Charles and Elsie both had agreed on making it short. It was horrible enough. When they had said their goodbyes and wished him luck they silently observed the others who kept William longer than necessary from getting in the car that would bring him to the station. They didn't tell the other, but they both were terribly worried about the lad. Elsie was very fond of him while Charles had more or less grown into the role of the grumpy uncle. The car had long disappeared, but they were still standing outside in silence. Charles looked down at Elsie. "You are thinking of your nephew, aren't you?"

She nodded. "How could I not think of him? He'll follow William soon."

"I hate to see what the war makes of us", Charles said.

"What do you mean?", Elsie asked confused.

"Look at us. We are non-stopped worried to hear someone we knew died. We try to be useful, but don't achieve anything. And worst of all, we look back and see what we've done wrong and are left with nothing but regrets and nights filled of strange thoughts that lead to no good." By the end of his short speech, he sounded extremely upset.

She stared at him in disbelieve. He had just shared his most private thoughts with her which he hadn't done in years. She wasn't sure how to react.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Hughes, please forget I've said that", he apologised and stormed back inside.

"Mr. Carson!", she called after him, but was ignored. She grabbed the wall for support. He was ready for the truth. She wasn't, had never been. But now that Jo was here, she would have to give in eventually and leave the past behind her. The war had broken the ice between them and Elsie wouldn't be the one to put it back in place.

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**Please leave a review if you have a moment! Thanks in advance! :)**_**  
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	3. Chapter 3

_**Thank you for your lovely reviews! They mean the world. With this chapter a Charles & Elsie background story starts. I did my very best to make it logical. Expect that I will jump between past and present in the following chapters. Enjoy and please keep reviewing! :)**_

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**Summer 1897**

Eight years had passed since Charles Carson's return to Downton Abbey. His life on the stage was nothing more than a bleary memory. From the moment he had discovered that Charlie Grigg was an arrogant drunk who had a bad influence on whomever he met, Charles had tried to get away from this sort of life he had so foolishly chosen. When he found out that the Abbey was in need of a new footman, he had applied for the job without hesitating. It had been his luck that Mr. Jones was still butler. The man had a good memory. He remembered Charles as a hardworking and reliable hallboy, so he had been more than glad to have him back as second footman. It was only a year later that Charles was made first footman. His years at Downton were busy, but compared to his strange life in London peaceful and safe. Life at Downton was like clockwork. It wasn't long until Charles had turned into an honourable man who cared deeply about the rules. And as such a man he preferred to forget about his past.

The summer that year was different. It wasn't only that the weather was unusually warm and sunny, but the family had decided not to open Grantham house and instead visit Duneagle Castle. Almost the entire staff was left behind at the Abbey. It was Charles' very first summer in Downton since he had left for the stage. He was glad to stay. Going to London for the season had always made him quite uncomfortable.

Mr. Jones and Mrs. Jenkins had a few disagreements on whether or not the staff should be given more time off. In the end they made a compromise. If the staff worked hard and well, they would get some extra time off. Charles didn't really care. He didn't mind work. He liked it. Nonetheless he was glad when he had his half day. There were a few things he needed to fetch in the village and the weather was so marvelous that it would have been a real shame if he had had to stay inside all day. He changed into his private clothing and didn't bother with a tie or buttoning his shirt all the way up. A warm summer breeze blew through his hair while he walked down the path to the village. He was deeply lost in thought. So deeply that he couldn't remember what he had thought about when a young boy on a bike ringed him out of the way. Charles let out a surprised gasp and jumped aside. He had no time to scold the boy. By the time Charles had regained his composure the boy had disappeared around the next corner. Shaking his head he continued his way. He came by the church. On the black board where all sorts of events and news were announced a rather colourful poster caught his eye. He raised his eyebrows while he read it. There would be a fair in the village on the weekend. That didn't happen too often. Charles shrugged his shoulders at the poster and continued his way to the local shop. It wasn't until he was on the path back to the Abbey an hour later that he thought about the fair again. Should he ask Mr. Jones if he could go? Charles shook his head. Why would he go to the fair? He had no one to accompany him and to go alone was really out of the question. The Abbey came into view. Charles would never stop being impressed by the old walls that forged towards the sky. He crossed the deserted yard and hurried upstairs to change back into livery. By the time he came downstairs the staff was already gathering in the servant's hall for dinner.

Charles entered and sat down on his usual place next to the other footman Edward. He was much younger than Charles and a bit like a little brother. Edward could be of great help, but also get Charles extremely on his nerves. Mr. Jones and Mrs. Jenkins, both in their late fifties, entered together. Everyone hurried to get up. The scratching of the chairs on the floor sent a quick pain through Charles' head. He was used to it. As soon as the heads of staff had sat down, the kitchen maid Beryl started to serve dinner and quite chatter filled the air.

"How was your half day?", Edward asked, taking a slice of half burnt toast and dunking it in his soup.

"Not too exciting", Charles replied and carefully blew at his spoonful of soup to get rid of the heat. He swallowed and stopped himself from moaning in pain. He had burnt his tongue. He placed his spoon on the table and started to eat a piece of toast, hoping that the soup would become eatable in the meantime.

"Anything going on in the village we should know about?", Edward wanted to know.

"No", Charles responded, still busy with the pain in his mouth. Edward's shoulders slumped down and he spooned his soup disappointedly. Charles then remembered the fair and decided to tell the other footman to cheer him up again. "Although", he continued and immediately had Edward's full attention. "There is a fair on the weekend."

"A fair?", Edward repeated excitedly. "Really? This weekend? Do you think we can go?"

"What? You and me? I don't think so", Charles said, starting his second attempt to eat the soup.

"And if we'd all go? Come on, it'll be fun!" Edward wasn't one for giving in easily.

"They won't allow us", Charles mumbled and glanced to the butler and housekeeper.

"It's worth asking", Edward decided. He turned to the head of the table, but shot around to Charles who startled and choked on the soup. "What?", he hissed, trying to keep his coughs quiet.

"You ask them."

"What? No, you want to go!", Charles protested.

"But you are first footman", Edward pointed out.

Charles gave up. He sighed and prepared himself to address the butler. "Mr. Jones?"

The butler's spoon stopped halfway to his mouth and he stared at Charles. "Yes?"

Charles cleared his throat. "Have you heard about the fair? The one this weekend?"

The butler let out a deep growl. "I have." His spoon found its way back onto his plate. "And you want to know if you may go." It wasn't a question. Mr. Jones seemed to have waited for this moment all day long.

"Well, yes", Charles said.

The butler exchanged a look with the housekeeper. Charles wasn't sure how to interpret that kind of look, but it didn't mean that he got himself into trouble as far as he could tell. "As it is, Mrs. Jenkins and I had a long discussion about the fair just this morning. She insisted that you could all go."

Charles sensed that half the staff was already celebrating, but he had the feeling that the butler would continue with 'but'. "I didn't like the idea since there is still a lot of work to do, but as Mrs. Jenkins pointed out: We are ahead of the working schedule and therefore you may go." Charles was surprised that Mr. Jones had really given them permission to go, but now that he had there was no stopping the staff's excitement. It really was a wonder that no one felt the need to jump from his seat to let out a triumphant cry. Edward's grin went form one ear to the other. "Brilliant! We can go to the fair", he cheered. Charles smiled. He had wanted to go when he had found out about the fair and things had only turned to his advantage if only the bloody soup hadn't had a bad influence on his mood. He started his third attempt to eat it properly and burnt his bottom lip. "Blast", he breathed. "Who made this soup?"

"Beryl, I think", Edward answered with a mouthful of toast.

"Did she put hellfire in it?", Charles asked.

"What?", Edward said confused.

"Never mind", Charles mumbled, cooling his mouth with a glass of water. His mood had dropped dramatically, but when the weekend arrived and he met with the other footman downstairs he had long forgotten about the unpleasant side of that dinner.

"Are you really taking a jacket with you, Charlie?", Edward asked, staring at the light coat Charles carried over his left arm. "Why not? It might get a bit chilly."

"The sun's been burning all of Yorkshire for the past three weeks", Edward tried to make a point.

Charles rolled his eyes in reply and stepped outside. Edward was right. The sun was burning hot, but she was already sinking. He was sure they would return to the Abbey in the dark and then he wouldn't mind having his coat with him. He turned around, only to see that Edward still looked at him with furrowed brows. "Come on now, Edward. Or the fair will long be over when we arrive."

That did the trick. They walked in silence, catching up to the maids who were having some sort of giggling contest led by Beryl. "What's so funny?", Edward asked, managing to walk in the middle of the group of ladies. Beryl pointed ahead. Charles looked in the direction she pointed. He raised his eyebrows in surprise when he spotted Mrs. Jenkins and Mr. Jones ahead of them, walking arm in arm.

"You should have seen his face when he offered her his arm", Beryl said. "He turned as red as a cherry."

"I still don't get why this is so interesting. They have known each other for more than two decades. This is perfectly harmless", Charles said.

"They are never doing this. What if they have something going on?", Beryl suggested with a cheeky grin.

"Nonsense! It's against the rules", Charles responded a little shocked. Beryl only rolled his eyes at him. "Love doesn't care about your rules." Laughing at Charles' disapproving expression, she linked arms with him and had the decency to stay silent until they reached the village. They split up. Charles had to follow Edward to where they sold cider. He didn't really fancy it, but decided to have a glass for Edward's sake. While they drank, he let his gaze wonder over the fair. Maybe there was something that caught his interest. His eyes wandered over the few tables they had placed next to the dance floor. Traditional music was coming from this way and a few couples from the village had started dancing. He had already turned to another part of the whole spectacle when a certain image only then got clear and he abruptly returned his attention to the tables. There were a few young women chatting happily with each other. He had never before seen them. Only one was seated in a way he could see her properly. She had curly brown hair that was shimmering a little red in the evening sun. She was small, but robust. Charles blushed a little thinking that she also had lovely curves. As far as he could tell from the distance she had blue eyes. It wasn't until Edward almost shouted at him that he realized that he was staring at that woman.

"What's so interesting over there that you are spilling your cider all over the grass?", Edward asked and followed Charles' gaze. What had Edward said about the cider? He had only been half paying attention. Looking at that woman was far too nice to stop it for some cider. "Wait a minute, are you staring at that young lady over there?", Edward said, not hiding the cheek in his tone. "Are you even listening to me, Charlie?"

"What?" Now finally he was able to look elsewhere.

"I don't believe it. You have a crush on her." Edward caught another glance at the woman. "Despite the distance", he added after a moment of thinking. "Go on, ask her for a dance."

"No!", Charles blurted out. "I can't just go and talk to her."

"Of course you can." Edward shook his head. "Now, look where they are sitting. Right next to the dance floor which means that they only wait for a gentleman like you to ask one of them for a dance."

"Edward, these tables are the only ones on the whole fair."

Edward looked around for a second. "All right, you have a point there", he admitted. "But still: She managed to cast a spell on you from that distance, so you absolutely have to talk to her." The footman grabbed Charles' arm and pulled him towards the table where the young women were sitting. Charles was in some sort of state of shock and when he was able to move again it was almost too late. He tried very discreetly to free himself from Edward's grip, but it was hopeless. He might be taller than the lad, but definitely not stronger. They were already given curious and shy looks. Charles wished he would fall in a hole right now. Just disappear somewhere, before he was well and truly humiliated. Edward stopped right in front of the woman of interest. "Evening, ladies", he greeted them and caused a lot of giggling. "If I may introduce us: This fellow here is Charlie…"

"Charles", he corrected without even thinking. He had made eye contact with the deep blue sea of her eyes and wouldn't lose it. She smiled at him and he felt his heart beat speeding up. "Hello, Charles", she said without the slightest bit of mocking. He heard immediately that she was speaking with a Scottish accent. The way she rolled the 'r' in his name sent a shiver down his spine. "I'm Elsie." He didn't even need to think about it to know that this was the most beautiful name he had ever heard.

"And I'm Edward, just in case anyone cares", Edward mumbled behind Charles' back. He had completely forgotten that the other footman even existed.

"Would you like to dance?", Charles asked and offered her his hand. He suddenly felt totally at ease like he had known her for years. His nervousness was blown away. She beamed up at him. "I'd love to." She took his hand and he couldn't help but smile at the sight. Her hand seemed to be so small in his. Her skin was soft and she moved in a very elegant manner. He led her on the dance floor leaving a slightly offended Edward behind who soon found himself in an interesting conversation with one of the other ladies.

Charles held Elsie very gently, afraid that he could hurt her. She only just reached his shoulder. He hadn't danced in ages, but dancing was one of the things he would never forget about. He led her to the melody of a waltz. She was a perfect dancer. "Have you only recently arrived in the village?", she asked.

"No, no, I've worked at the Abbey for quite some time", he replied, glad that she had started a conversation. He wanted to know more about her. Preferably everything.

"The Abbey? What a place to work at", she said, sounding like she liked the thought.

"Well, it is nice, although as a footman I can hardly ever enjoy the place properly", he joked. "But what about you? I can't remember to have ever seen you in the village."

"I came here over a year ago. I'm a maid at Wickham House."

"Sir Wickham is a friend of his lordship", Charles remembered.

"Yes, he visits the Abbey regularly."

"You are from Scotland, aren't you? What brought you here?", he asked curiously.

"That's a long story", she laughed.

He gave her a lopsided grin. "I have quite some time to spare." And so she started telling him about her farm life in Scotland and how she had wished to escape that. She told him about her sister and her husband and he listened to each and every word. At some point, when they had long left the dance floor and walked around the fair he told her his story. His childhood at Downton as the groom's son, his awkward adventures on London's stages and how he came back. By the end of the evening, there wasn't much left they didn't know from the other. Charles had won her a nice little brooch which she was wearing while he accompanied her back to Sir Wickham's small country house at the southern end of the village. They had linked arms and he had put his coat around her shoulders. As soon as the sun had disappeared at the horizon it had gotten a bit chilly. They walked extra slow to stay in the other's company for as long as possible. But in the end, they reached the servant's entrance of Wickham House. Elsie handed him his coat back. "Thank you for the evening, Charles. It was lovely."

"I have to thank you", Charles answered. "I hope we'll see each other again soon", he added hopefully.

"We will", she promised. "I know where to find you and you know where to find me."

He smiled warmly at her. "Good night, Elsie", he said quietly.

"Good night", she responded and squeezed his arm gently. He watched after her. She turned around one more time in the door and gave him a last smile for the evening. The door was closed and Charles was alone. He grinned like crazy at the door before he turned on his heels and walked back to the Abbey. The moment he had closed the backdoor behind him, he leaned against the cool wood and slid down until he sat on the ground. Whatever had happened to him this evening it made him feel dizzy and happy. His trance ended with Edward stepping out of the servant's hall. "There you are. Mr. Jones told me to wait for you and lock up."

Charles got up. "Edward, I think I'm in love."

"Pardon?", Edward said, almost letting the keys fall.

"I'm in love. Totally, hopelessly, deeply, completely in love."

"It's that Elsie, right?", the footman asked, locking up the backdoor.

"Yes", Charles answered. "I think I'll marry her."

"Oh dear, Charlie", Edward sighed, but Charles had already stormed upstairs.

Charles was courting Elsie the whole summer, meeting her for walks and tea whenever they could spare a moment. And when autumn arrived, Charles decided to propose. He sent a note to Elsie, asking her if they could meet at the lake in the afternoon. While he was waiting for her, he checked his pocket watch every few seconds until she finally came into view. She was wearing a lovely dark green dress and greeted him with a beautiful smile. "So, what is the reason of this sudden meeting?", she asked curiously.

"I don't know what you mean", he answered, taking her hand.

"Come on now. I can see that you've planned something", she teased. "It's written all over your face."

He cleared his throat. "Well, if it's that obvious…" He felt the blood rushing through his cheeks. He slowly reached into his waistcoat pocket and got out a plain silver ring. "It belonged to my mother. She gave it to me. She said if I ever wanted to marry it ought to be the engagement ring. She insisted." He had to smile at the memory of his fierce mother. Then he looked directly in Elsie's eyes. "I'd like to give it to you." She had tears in her eyes, but didn't say anything. When it was obvious that she made him feel unsure, she rolled her eyes at him. "Charles, I won't say yes until you have asked properly."

He let out a relieved sigh. Slowly he bent down on one knee, ignoring the wet grass that soaked his trousers. "Elsie Hughes, will you marry me?"

"Yes, I will", she answered with a broad smile. As soon as he had placed the ring on her right hand he pulled her in a tight hug. She buried her face at his chest. "Charles, we'll have to leave service", she whispered.

"We'll have to", he agreed and held her one arm's length away to look at her. "I can't offer you much at the moment, but I'd like to. I thought about staying in service for a little longer to save more money. Then we can get married and start a new life somewhere with a shop. Only if you agree, of course", he added quickly.

"You mean we should keep our engagement a secret until we are able to afford a new start."

"You don't sound too enthusiastic", he remarked worriedly.

"Well, I don't like the thought of being secretly engaged, not to mention how long we might have to wait until our wedding, but I understand that this will be necessary." She stepped back into his warm embrace. He buried his face in her hair. "We'll be married in no time, you'll see", he promised.


	4. Chapter 4

**Thank you for your lovely reviews! Hope you enjoy. :)**

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**September 1917 – Part 1**

Charles was often lying awake at night since Downton had turned into a hospital. He tried to avoid the wounded soldiers. He didn't want to see what the war was really like and he didn't want to hear their stories of the trenches. There were already enough images haunting him. It had started after William's departure. Charles was fonder of the lad than he had admitted to himself and he was afraid to hear of his death. He never before had thought that, but now that the war was roaring in France and young men died like flies he thought himself lucky not to have any children. Charles could hardly deal with the worries concerning William. Having a son of his own fighting trenches would make him sick. Children. Why did this thought always lead him back to Elsie? As soon as she entered his head he felt horrible. She was the life he could have had and every day he had to spend with her. For one part of him that was pure torture, but the other part of him was glad that she hadn't abandoned him. Despite what had happened, he needed her. And sometimes he forgot what had happened between them. What she had done to him. Only sometimes.

Elsie hardly slept since Jo had arrived. The fact that she knew the truth wasn't really bad since it had never been a real secret in Scotland, but here at Downton it could start things no one wanted to happen. But in the darkness of her room, Elsie decided one night that these things had to happen and therefore she would speak to Jo and slowly, carefully reveal the whole story. But then she had to postpone her plans. Henry had written. He planned to come to Downton.

The way from the Downton station to the Abbey wasn't difficult to find, even for Henry who never before the war had started had been somewhere else than in Scotland. He had not much with him. Only things that would be of use to him at the front thinking of which gave him mixed feelings. He had met wounded soldiers and the fear in their eyes wasn't encouraging. But on the other hand Henry was proud to fight for his country. And he felt like it was his duty. The closer he got to the Abbey, the taller the walls seemed. The front door stood open. Nurses went out and back in, helping the wounded to get some fresh air. They paid no attention to Henry. To them he was just another soldier. He found his sister in the largest bedroom. She was changing a soldier's bandage. Her back was turned towards him, so she didn't see him approaching. "Hello, sister", Henry greeted her and smiled when she startled and jumped around. "Henry!", she exclaimed in delight and hugged him. "You really have come."

"I have to say goodbye to my sister before I leave for France", he answered. "I spent a day at aunt Rachel's and then I travelled here."

"How is she?", Jo asked.

"She is glad that we figured the truth out ourselves, but still refuses to give answers", Henry growled. "That is our mother's duty, she says."

"And she is right", Jo responded. "And she will tell us."

"How do you know?", Henry asked unconvinced.

"She told me", Jo challenged. "I talked to her shortly after I arrived."

"Did you? And what exactly did she say?"

"Not much", Jo admitted. "But it was obvious that she needs time to sort things out with herself."

"I leave tomorrow. Who knows when I'll be back. If she wants me to know the so called truth, she has to tell me now", Henry pointed out.

"Then let's go to her right now", Jo supposed.

"Right now?", Henry asked, looking insecure.

"Yes, right now", Jo replied fiercely. "Come along". She grabbed his arm and dragged him out of the bedroom, across the Great Hall and to the staircase.

Elsie had crossed the Great Hall, looking for Jo. She had spotted the young woman in one of the rooms that now served as bedroom. She had been talking to a young soldier who had his back turned towards Elsie. She had known who it was anyway. Rooted to the spot she had stared at the two who seemed to have a rather heated discussion. When Jo had looked in her direction without seeing her, Elsie had fled downstairs.

On her way she almost bumped into Charles who jumped aside quickly and watched her as she stormed into her sitting room and closed the door with a bang. He didn't know why, but instead of leaving her alone he went to investigate why she was so upset. Especially since being upset seemed to have turned into her favourite mood. He knocked softly and entered. She was sitting at her desk and had buried her face in her hands. The sight made him uncomfortable and he decided to take his leave. "I'm sorry. I'll come back later", he mumbled. In one elegant move she turned towards him. Tears were pouring down her cheeks and Charles felt like she had thrown a knife at him that had sunken deeply into his chest. The last time she had cried in his presence he had been the reason for the tears. "What's wrong?", he heard himself asking.

She simply shook her head. "Nothing", she sobbed. "It's just all too much."

"You mean the war?", he asked softly.

"To hell with the war. It's the bloody reason for everything", she shouted. "This is not how I wanted it to be."

"Wanted what to be?"

"Take a look around you! Everything's a mess." She stared at him for a few moments and seemed to realize all of a sudden that it was him she was talking to. "Doesn't matter."

"If it can make you that upset that you are crying than it does matter!", he protested. Something was going on inside him. Something that told him to protect the woman before him and to ease her pain.

"But it's none of your business!", she snapped back, knowing that this was a lie.

"Fine, then don't tell me. I don't even know why I care about it."

"Then leave!", she almost screamed. She was trying so hard to regain her composure. For heaven's sake, they were downstairs where everyone could hear them.

"You should be grateful that I care about you at all after what you did to me", he growled angrily.

The storm inside Elsie calmed the moment he had finished the sentence. It wasn't a safe calm, but a dangerous one. She grabbed the next best thing that lay on her desk and threw it at him. It had been the ink pot. He managed to parry it with his hand and it shattered on the ground into thousand pieces. Ink flooded a rather large spot on the stone floor. He looked at her with pure anger, but she didn't miss the bit of fear and hurt that spoke through his eyes. With two long strides he stood above her and for a moment she thought he would slap her, but instead he bent down and kissed her. Before she knew what she was doing she returned the kiss. She had forgotten how soft his lips could be, how gentle. How good he tasted and how loved he could make her feel. It all came back and she felt her heart soften and her anger fading. And then he broke the kiss as suddenly as he had started it. He looked her in the eyes. He seemed to seek something, but she didn't know what. His eyes were a mystery to her in this moment. And then she understood. The open book he used to be had closed, had thrown her out and the hurt and anger returned to her. "Out!", she said in her most threatening tone and he turned on his heels to leave. He ripped the door open and crashed into someone. It was a soldier. "Sorry", the young lad answered. Charles growled at him and rushed outside, not even taking a proper look at him. He didn't even see Jo who was behind Henry and as shocked as her brother. Elsie could have throttled the butler in that moment and was glad that the visitor had appeared this very second to stop her from doing so. Jo entered and Henry closed the door behind him. With furrowed brows he looked at what was left of the ink pot. "What happened?", he asked.

"We had a little disagreement." She didn't dare to look at him. There was still too much going on inside her. If there had ever been hope for Charles and her he had destroyed it a few seconds ago. He hadn't changed his opinion. There was no forgiveness. Only hurt and anger.

"I never knew you could argue about household matter so intensely", Jo said and sat down on the settee. Henry joined her when his sister gave him a threatening glance.

"We weren't arguing about household matters", Elsie said quietly.

Henry raised his eyebrows at her, but didn't comment. "Whatever, I guess you know why I have come."

She folded her hands in her lap. "I think so", she replied.

"I won't stay long. I really just wanted to let you know that I am off tomorrow. I'll be in France soon fighting for king and country", he announced proudly.

"You know I wouldn't let you go if I had the choice", she said, looking down on her feet.

"But you don't have the choice and even if you had it: You have no right to tell me what to do", he responded coldly.

She let out a bitter laugh. "I am your mother, Henry Graham. I have every right."

"You are not my mother", he snapped, but the hurt look on Elsie's face made him think. Jo elbowed him in the ribs and not too gently. "We have no right to judge unless we know the truth", Jo hissed at him.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that" he apologized.

"I can't be angry with you. You are right after all. What mother am I? I left you and your sister and what for?", she said quietly, thinking of Charles words. A_fter what you did to me._

"You did what you had to do. Jo is right. I shouldn't judge you", he admitted. "In fact I should thank you for letting as live with your sister. Like this we grew up us the legitimate children of a respectable couple. You saved us from being marked us bastards."

She stared at him for a few very long moments. "You and your sister are no bastards."

"Of course we are!", Henry protested. "You and whoever is our father are not married and therefore we were born as illegitimate children."

She shook her head. "No, Henry." This was where it got complicated and where most pain was caused. "Your father and I are married."

Henry's mouth dropped open and he stared at her in horror. She could sense his confusion. "But then… I don't understand. Why…?", he stuttered.

Jo took her brother's hand to calm him. "I think now you finally owe us an explanation. Why did you leave us with Andrew and Rachel?"

Elsie looked at them, her twins. They had grown up so quickly and had developed remarkable characters. In many ways they were just like their parents. Looking at them in this very moment with their faces desperately pleading for answers Elsie knew that things had been meant to be different. But here they were, exactly where they shouldn't be. And for the first time the fact that only she could make things better gave her the will and strength to do just that. "Do you promise not to interrupt me while I tell the story?" They nodded.

"And do you promise me not to tell anyone about it?"

They hesitated, but nodded again. "I suppose it's better if I don't tell you here. The walls sometimes have ears and for today they have heard enough", Elsie said and rose from her chair. Her twins followed her out of her sitting room and through the backdoor.

"Where are we going?", Henry wanted to know.

"To the lake", Elsie answered. When they had reached it, Jo and Henry sat down in the grass and waited patiently for their mother to begin. Elsie looked around her. She recognized the exact spot where he had proposed. It was the lighter part of the story. She took a deep breath. "Where to start?", she said to herself and was send back in time to that lovely day in 1897 when a fair had been taken place in the village and Charles had asked her for a dance.

Charles was leaning over a basin in the washroom. After he had stormed out of Elsie's sitting room, this had been the place his feet had carried him. For two minutes he had splashed ice cold water in his face to clear his head. For so long he had been able to treat Elsie like he would have treated any other housekeeper, but now it got clear to him that even he couldn't go on like this forever. Forget or forgive. That was his choice and forgetting hadn't worked. Not in the least. His feelings for her were much stronger than his will to pretend the fair and everything afterwards hadn't happened. The argument had been typical for them, although the topic hadn't. The kiss was what really bothered him. She felt the exact same confusion as he did. He knew why he tried to stop himself from opening up to her, but why she did the same was a riddle to him. It had been him who had taken the hurt, not her. Charles stared into the mirror. Had the young soldier he had bumped into been Henry, he wondered. And if so, where had he seen his face before? It was familiar. He stared at his own reflection in the glass until it dawned on him. Looking into his own eyes he knew where he had seen that face before. The confusion returned and the water's work was undone. He stormed back to her sitting room, but she wasn't there and neither was the soldier. He sank against the cold wall. Could it really be? Could she really have kept that secret from him? Charles felt how control slipped and danger took its place. If what he thought was true or not, the secret he shared with Elsie was dangerous enough as it was. The rules forbid it and the rules didn't care about the circumstances. He wasn't allowed to be married, let alone everything that could be connected with it. But he was married and not just to some woman. He was married to the housekeeper. He was married to Elsie Hughes.

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**I promise things will become clear and move on in the next chapter! Let me know what you think of this chapter. :)**


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